Her Blacklist
by KissAMonster
Summary: This story is set earlier in their lives. And it is her who has a list of people she wants to take revenge on. One of them is the FBI Most Wanted Nr. 4. and she is close of finally catching him. / AU & Lizzington
1. Chapter 1

_A/N_: I don't own NBC's _The Blacklist_ or any of the characters. I also don't have a beta. So if anyone wants to volunteer, I'd be happy. :)

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_**Her**_** Blacklist ~ Chapter One**

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She was crouching behind a burning car. The flames were licking hungry at the tires and seats, causing her cough and squeeze her eyes shut. The smoke was frightening and it forced her to freeze. Too many bad memories lay within the smell.

Close by she heard gun fire and two explosions going off and she worried about losing her orientation. The ringing in her ears was getting louder and louder and her hands were shaking as they embraced her gun. It was smeared with brood that had dripped from her cheek.

She had fled and hidden when the first half of her task force was blown away by a bomb, which had been placed under the floor in the first building they had stormed. She had barely made it out. Bullets had been penetrating the windows from above and the four agents flanking her had dropped dead beside her almost simultaneously. And if she was honest, she had difficulty believing she would survive herself as less and less of her team members were responding over the headset to her.

She watched the scene around her with caution and saw two figures dressed in black on the roof of the warehouse. But it was hard to tell which side they fought for. She had never expected being outnumbered when she had given the command to attack the building. It was supposed to be easy once she had tracked him down. Because finding him was the hard part, it said in his files. And the trap had been perfect. At least at first.

* * *

„_Agent Keen, do you understand the importance of this operation?" The assistant director was not in a good mood. She could tell by the grim lines around his wrinkled eyebrows as he let his glance run over her papers. _

„_Sir, I don't think there is anyone in the entire FBI who wants to capture him more than I do." She said as calm as she could. It was important he understood that she could separate her personal involvement from the opportunity to catch the number 4 on the list._

„_You believe he killed your father?" But he knew it wasn't just a belief. It was the reason she had joined the FBI; the reason she was so much better than other trainees. She had combed the planet for every piece of information regarding her family and the tragedy that occurred when she was just a child._

„_Isn't that why you chose me?" _

_The man in front of her was mulling over his next words. The matter was delicate after all. „You were not the first choice; believe me, given your young age. But having lost seven fine agents within the last five years of uncovering his crime ring, I don't have many options anymore." It was true. She was only 27 and far from ready to be leading a team. He sighed and framed absently his name sign on the desk with his finger. In black letters 'Cooper' was printed after the official title. He lifted his eyes towards her. "The truth is: the more trained and experienced our agents have been, the earlier they were killed or disappeared. Somehow Reddington is always a step ahead of us and anticipates our moves. I need someone who thinks outside of the box, someone who hasn't protocol down to a T yet." _Someone who questioned official procedures like nobody else_, she added in her mind._

„_You read that I'm applying to become a profiler?" It was not official yet._

_He eyed her again, and then leaned back into his seat. „I know you have a personal goal and your resume is impressive so far. But chasing after Reddington comes with certain strings. One of them is not to know what to expect." She knew his words were a code for something else._

„_I was told that all Most Wanted hunts are basically suicide missions."_

_He squared his shoulders and looked intimidating somehow. „You go down deep into the rabbit hole. We have undercover agents working with you who will try to insert themselves into his business. But you have to be focused all the time. You will be the head of the operation."_

_She nodded once. „I understand Sir. And I won't let you down." She was nervous and excited and somehow proud of herself. It all seemed to fall into place somehow. _

„_Very well." He said and got up from his chair. "Here are the files on his last whereabouts." She took the folder and shook his hand. "Congratulations Agent Keen on becoming Reddington's new case agent."_

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Her breathing was heavy now. She would be 8th assigned agent dying right in front of the Concierge of Crime, if she didn't break loose from the rest of the task force and search for him to putting a bullet between his eyes. The game had changed half an hour ago. Arresting was protocol; killing him a necessity, if she wanted to live.

"Unit 3, can you hear me? Unit 3, please report." She tried to get in contact with her team once more, speaking into the microphone attached to her ear. "Unit 3, can you hear me?"

There were crunching noises on the other end as she pressed the receiver closer to her eardrum. Then changed the channel. "Unit 4, what is your current position?", and heard nothing at first. Then three shots went off.

"Johnson, Morrison, are you there?" Appalled she called out. But the line was dead. No sound at all.

"Shit." Liz cursed and her voice was wavering; her pulse hammering restless away inside her neck. It was hard for her to stay focused when everything around her seemed to fall apart. And she knew there was no more back-up coming. In order to find Reddington they had gone invisible. And not just to him, to the FBI as well.

She swallowed as the bitter taste of bile filled her mouth. The whole mission was depending now on her alone. So she cleared the area and crawled away from the car, which started collapsing under the heavy flames and smoke. She needed to find a way to the airfield. Reddington would make sure to escape by his plane.

So she ran across the first lane, west from an old bunker that was still under attack. Nobody had seen her, she was sure. The battle was intense and she heard muffled bullets as they hit their target and screams filled the air. And she had to suppress the tears of failure stinging right behind her eyes, knowing that her team was lost. Nobody would survive, she knew; and if they did, they would be targets no less. With Raymond Reddington there were no loose ends. He kept his house clean and nothing ever traced back to him.

She braced herself for the next sprint and loaded her gun just in case with a new magazine. The airplane lay approximately a quarter mile away and it was likely she could be detected. So she looked to her left and looked to her right, carefully scanning all corners. Once more she closed her eyes very tight, her muscles flexing under her skin. Then she opened them ,ready to pounce… and was met with a riffle pointed straight at her face.

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_tbc…_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N:_ I don't own NBC's _The Blacklist_ or any of the characters. Unfortunately I still don't have a beta and would be happy if anyone would be willing to erase my mistakes. :) The reviews have been lovely though. Thank you so much & keep them coming. ;)

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_**Her **_**Blacklist**** ~ Chapter 2**

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There was punch. Or she thought there had been one; she couldn't quite remember. She only felt the pain of her face swelling and was sure about a bruise already forming around her right eye. Her hands were tied behind her back and she was being pushed forwards roughly. A woman, slightly older than her, was threatening her with the riffle held to her neck as they walked into one of the storage facilities close to the airstrip.

"Look what I found outside." She said in a heavy British accent as they stopped in front of a small gathering of fine dressed men deep in conversation.

The whispering stopped immediately and it was _him_ who first met her eyes. The one she had wanted to find. Cream suit and vest, grey tie and fedora, composed yet alert and a little bit annoyed, despite the smug smile.

Raymond Reddington, also referred to as 'Red' by his enemies, furrowed his eyebrows and took a step closer. The other men in the group meanwhile minded their own business for he was to decide what would happen to the intruder.

She looked him straight in the eyes. It was the first time she saw him up close. He was in his mid forties but looked quite young. He had a buzz cut and a sharp defined face. His eyes however told a story of age: they were wise and cautious, yet vivid and alive. He had seen the worst but seemed comfortable with it.

She knew from his files that he was ruthless and she knew what to expect from him. But she didn't cower as he tilted his head and found amusement in her pride. "Agent Keen, what a pleasure." He purred far too casual as he scanned her from head to toe with his eyes. "It is true then, the FBI now does send their ducklings into the game. Harold must be desperate."

It took her by surprise that he knew about her. Officially her identity had been sealed.

Red turned around and addressed the group of men. "Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you all to somebody. " He smiled and pointed at her with his hand. "This is my stunningly attractive new case agent Elizabeth. A pleasure to the eyes, but intolerably persistent. She has been tailing me for weeks now."

Then, within a second of a heartbeat, he produced a gun right under her jaw pointing upwards towards her brain. "Unfortunately…" he spoke close to her face in a deep but deadly voice. "… she is also the reason we got disturbed in our business meeting."

She swallowed and could feel the tiny hair in her neck raise as a slight tremble shook through her bones. She was afraid, yet couldn't close her eyes. His face was impassive as he taunted her to make a wrong move. "Your team slaughtered three of my best men."

She felt the cold steel pressing further into her skin. "My entire task force is dead." She hissed at him and tried to squirm away from the gun.

"Well, you should have considered my associates having their own security when you decided to invade this area like a hoard of teenage paintball players." He said calmly. "The bombs were Lorca's people." And he pointed with his head towards a sleazy looking Italian who motioned slicing off her head with his fingers. Reddington smiled at her. "Skipped the tactic class in Quantico, didn't you?"

"Raymond!" A voice interrupted the scene. "We have to leave. The police will arrive soon."

Liz saw an African looking, tall and very muscular guy approaching the two of them from the hall. He was carrying several weapons and had blood spatter across his white shirt.

Red relieved her a bit from the pressure of his gun and nodded towards the man. "Dembe, pack our things and get the plane ready. I'll be finished here in a minute."

Then his attention was back on her. He could detect the silent fear that was bleeding out of her. It was mere minutes left for her allowed to breathe. And he knew that she knew and narrowed his eyes. "Meera, check if she is wired." Of course he'd think she had called in the SWAT. And if she had, it might have saved her life.

She closed her eyes for a moment as the Indian woman started to pat her down. And while she opened her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse at the top to look for cables attached to her skin, Reddington charged his revolver by putting the bullets one after another into the barrel.

"You know, it's a real shame." His expression was business-like as he spoke of her execution. He didn't get attached, not even to his choices. He was life and death with one simply flick of the security lock on his gun. "You've got potential."

There were no hidden wires or microphones. The headset together with her gun was destroyed. But regardless the woman continued exploring her pockets. A 20 dollar bill, a pin, her ID, a flashlight and a folded piece of paper was all she found and she placed the items onto a table next to them. "That's it. She's clear."

Red eyed the contents, lowered his weapon and went through her belongings. "So, nobody is listening as we speak then. Smart move. Or not." He shrugged and opened the flashlight. It was a usual tool, no hidden blades or tracking devices. A short glance at her badge, before he picked up the paper.

"No." She said but he had already started reading.

"What's this?" His brows lifted and he looked at her sharply.

"Nothing." It was barely a whisper.

He laughed. "Oh it certainly is something. It has my name on it. And I hold place one I might add."

Her lips were sealed and she bit her cheek from inside. It didn't matter anyway now, did it? So she took a deep breath to calm herself before she stared directly into his eyes. "It's the list of people who are responsible for the murder of my family."

"A Blacklist?" He stated. And then his mimic got calculating as he studied her features carefully. And the seconds ticked by one by one. "Who are you?"And it sounded like an accusation. He didn't like secrets, only cherished his own.

Anger rose inside of her, coloring her cheeks in a feverish red. "I'm Samuel Milhoan's daughter. And you are the bastard who murdered my father!" She spat with venom in her voice and struggled against the restrains, that were slowly cutting their way into her wrists. It cost the woman all the strength she had to keep her in place and away from Red.

And like a spark lighting a fire, his eyes began to glow and something like apprehension was written in them. "You're Sam's little girl?" He swallowed hard. He truly must remember his victims, she thought. Maybe not all murders, but her father's was bloody. "You're Lizzie?"

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_tbc…_


End file.
